Dear Mr. Kind,

    Here I am! I traveled yesterday for four hours in a train. It's a funny experience. I never rode in one before.

   College is the biggest, most confusing place — I get lost whenever I leave my room. I will tell you more later when I'm feeling less puzzled. Now I want to write a letter first just to get me familiar to you.

   It seems strange to be writing letters to somebody you don't know. It seems strange for me to be writing letters at all — I've never written more than three or four in my life, so please overlook it if they are not a model kind.

    Before leaving yesterday morning, Mrs. Lippett and I had a very serious talk. She told me how to behave, especially towards the kind gentleman who is doing so much for me. I must take care to be very respectful.

    I have been thinking of you a great deal this summer; having somebody take an interest in me after all these years makes me feel as though I had found a sort of family. It seems as though I belonged to somebody now, and it's a very comfortable feeling. I must say, however, that when I think about you, my imaqination has very little to work upon.

    There are just three things that I know:

    I .You are tall.

    II .You are rich.

    III. You hate girl.

    I suppose I might call you Dear Mr. Girl-Hater. Only that's rather unpleasant to me. Or Dear Mr. Rich-Man, but that's unpleasant to you, as though money were the only important thing about you. Maybe you won't stay rich all your life; But at least you will stay tall all your life! So I decide to call you Dear Daddy-long-legs. I hope you won't mind. It's just a private pet name — we won't tell Mrs. Lippett.

The ten o'clock bell is going to ring in two minutes. Our day is divided by bells. We eat and sleep and study by bells. There it goes! Lights out. Good night.

    You can see how strictly I obey rules due to my training in the John Grier Home.

Yours most respectfully,

Jerusha Abbott